Sitting there, just reading the morning newspaper (dating myself, now), minding my own business. Suddenly…foom! A furry butt has landed in the center of my reading material, messing all the creases my butler has so thoughtfully ironed in. Okay, the butler thing is a lie, but still. Or it might be a studied slump onto my comic book, or a tail flicking thoughtlessly across the pages of my book—followed by a hiss when I quite naturally used it for a bookmark, or seeing fluttered pages as an invitation to attack. These scenes had filled my life.

Then, I got an e-reader. I thought I was home free—no more furry interference. That is, until this morning, when the current furry resident got caught doing an all-claws-out tapdance on my Kindle.

A conspiracy, I tell you! Cats are out to keep us less well-read! [P&R comment deleted by moderator.] Right?